


What we cannot have, but somehow acquire

by SerkonanBloodLilly



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Biting, Desk Sex, Don't Like Don't Read, Dream Sex, F/M, Love Confessions, Masturbation, Shameless Smut, Slow Build, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 22:29:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13867326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerkonanBloodLilly/pseuds/SerkonanBloodLilly
Summary: A shamless smut with Teague and my OC Serana.





	1. What we cannot have (But somehow acquire)

**Author's Note:**

> It is lewd, you have been warned.

He never should have met her. What were the chances that Corvo returned with her to begin with? Martin exhales, smoke spiralling upwards into the night air. He doesn’t know. How could he, when he didn’t even know such a person could exist until that fateful day. Martin notes, with mild annoyance, he has run out of whiskey, setting the glass back onto the table. Leaning onto the railing of his office balcony, he stares out at the city. The moon is full, it’s light casting soft shadows upon Dunwall. Martin looks to the rooftops, bathed in those shadows. In the shadows she could be hidden amongst. But he knows she’s not there, and he feels those shadows mock him. Taunt him.

‘Look upon us, high Overseer. Look upon us and see what you cannot have. What you do not deserve…’

It takes Martin several moments to realize what he’d done.

In his blind rage, he’d thrown the empty whiskey bottle across his office. The shards strewn across the carpet, glittering in the light. Several Overseers, including the two stationed outside his door, had burst in, swords drawn. Ready for a fight that didn’t exist.

“High Overseer! Are you alright?” One asked, and Martin could hear the unease in the young man’s voice. They’d expected an assassin.

“Yes, Simon. I’m fine” In truth, he was. But only slightly. Some of the Overseers who’d burst in left after hearing Martin’s confirmation of saftey. The two that remained had sheathed their weapons, knowing now no danger was imminent.

“You’re… Sure, High Overseer?”

“Yes I’m sure, Higgins. Now return to your posts, I’d like to be alone”

The pair of Overseers hesitated, before one pulled the other out and the doors to Martin’s office closed with a thud. He let out a heavy sigh, despite the commotion it had caused, throwing the bottle had relased some stress. If only by a little, it was something. He did his best to avoid getting glass in his boots as he maneuvered his way to his bedchambers. With the click of the lock, Martin let’s his composure fall. Feeling the full weight of the day come down on his shoulders. It had been a busy day, full of paperwork and inquiries.

'Full of her… Running through my mind…’ he thinks, splashing water onto his face, his robes and holster discarded on the chair by his bed. Now clad only in the white button-down he wears under his uniform, and pants. Martin’s gaze wanders to his High Overseer robes, crimson red, as it’s supposed to be. Crimson red, like her. He grits his teeth, shutting his eyes as he turns away. Why must everything remind him of her? Of the assassin Corvo returned to the Hound Pits Pub with that fateful day.

“Damn it all…” he utters, rubbing at his forehead. Perhaps, he thinks, he could try reading, and reaches for one of several books piled atop his nightstand. 'The young Prince of Tyvia’, one of his favorites. He cracks open the cover, sinking into his propped up pillow with mild contempt.

However, it did not last long. Martin lost track of when he’d stopped reading and simply started staring at the page. As if he were trying to burn holes into the paper. Agitated, he snaps the book shut, tossing it onto the floor where it hits the boards with a dull thud. His mind is full of her, and only her. He wonders now, if he should let it consume him. If he should give in. A dull ache starts in his loins, and Martin, with fingers ever deft, frees himself from the confinement of his breeches. Now, he lets her consume his thoughts.

Martin thinks of her, every detail he can remember. Her walk, like that of a cat. Silent, full of grace, and the promise of death. The sway of her hips, oh so sinful. How many times had he watched them as she walked? Martin bit his lip, hands sliding down his stomach. Her breasts, large compared to what’s common in Dunwall. Full and soft he imagines, sliding a hand up his shaft. He’d truly only ever seen her in her armor, but by the outsider, that armor did her justice. Her face, by his opinion, held the most stunning of all her features. Her lips, the lightest shade of pink. Bitten at, and most certainly rough. What he wouldn’t give to kiss those lips, to feel them on his neck. Martin moans, low and deep, hips lifting from the mattress. Her eyes, a grey-blue, stunning, full of order, defiance, and independence. Her glares could make even the strongest men cower. So he’d witnessed himself when Havelock tried to order her around. Her pale skin and her blood red hair, a colour Martin had never witnessed before meeting her. Her voice, like velvet, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. He’s so close, and with his eyes shut tightly, he imagines her. In all her glory. Wrapped around him, his hands on her with hers on him and lips locked together as tongues dance to music no one but them can hear and-

Martin’s realase comes strong, much stronger than what he’s used to. Moaning her name as strings of white fall on his stomach, and his bedsheets. Much longer, too, he notes, basking in the afterglow. His chest heaves as the last of his glory washes over him, as he runs his hand through his hair, the smell of his lust evermore prominent. Martin also notes, how quickly the heat of his desire flees his body now that he has reached completion. It dawns on him just how lonely he is, and how much he yearns for her.

'Perhaps-’ He thinks, cleaning himself off with his bedsheet, before depositing it on the floor.

'Next time I see her, I should tell her how I feel…’ He settles, head resting on his pillow. Slowly, the world slips away, and sleep claims him for the night.

~

She’d watched. She’d watched the whole thing.

Admittedly, she hadn’t expected to come this way tonight. Her rooftop runs ususlly led her through other districts, as she didn’t want to spook any on-duty Overseers. The consequences if she did weren’t worth her time. But she had come this way, and stumbled upon High Overseer Martin himself, masturbating to her, of all people. She knew from the moment she met him that he’d liked her, she just never thought much of it. Despite feeling attraction to the Overseer himself.

An assassin from empress Emily’s circle and the High Overseer Teague Martin. How well would that go over?

And yet, she’d witnessed him be intimate with the idea. As she had, so many times. As she felt now. The thought of slipping into his room and crawling into Martin’s arms was tempting. She knows better, they’d get caught, and she’d probably scare Martin half to death when he awoke. Instead, she pulls her mask over her nose, and slinks back into the night.

“Maybe, just maybe, we’ll see eachother soon… Martin”

~

“Corvo, have you seen Serana?”

Corvo glances upward to find Emily standing in the doorframe. One hand on her hip with the slightest expression of worry. He sets down the quill he was holding, rising from his seat to strech.

“I thought you were still with Wyman, but no, I haven’t. Not since yesterday” Emily laughs, adjusting her posture.

“We just finished up” She tucks a strand of loose hair behind her ear, a nervous sigh escaping her lips.

“I hope nothing happened to her while she was out…” Corvo notices her smile drop, and moves foreward to grasp her shoulders.

“Serana is a master assassin, there’s nothing she’d get herself in she couldn’t get out of” She gives her father a half-smile, drawing him in for a hug, which he accepts. After a few moments, Emily pulls away, hands returning to her hips.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, but what should we do about the Abbey’s requistion for a spy?”

“Well-” Corvo starts.

“Lady Emily! Serana has returned!” A servant shouts, rushing towards them. Emily gives her father a look of sympathy.

“Thank you, Lina!” she shouts back, turning heel towards the stairs.

“Race me?”

“You’re on”

~

Serana sighed. She’d not slept much last night. After what she’d seen, she had plenty to think about. More than usual.

“Haha, beat you!” Serana’s head snapped upward, finding Emily and Corvo but a few feet away. Corvo chuckles, eyes meeting Serana’s. She gives him a nod, bowing to Emily as she approaches. Emily rolls her eyes in mock annoyance, a playful smile on her face.

“You know you don’t have to do that, right?”

“And yet-” Serana rises from her knee, dusting off her armor.

“I always will” She smiles, a rare sight from the assassin.

“So where did you run off to?” Serana shrugs, pulling a few papers from her satchel and handing them to Corvo.

“Midnight run. Ended up staying out longer than expected. I am sorry if I worried you, Emily” The empress smiles, telling Serana all is fine, and that she’s happy she’s okay. Corvo, who’d been leafing through the documents Serana handed him, looks to her with a serious expression.

“Serana, we’ve gotten a request from the Abbey in Dunwall for a spy. Posting would last two to three months, ending just before the feast. Seeing as you’re one of our most trusted, I wanted to present you with this news first” Serana lifts an eyebrow, the Dunwall Abbey. Oh god.

“Serana?”

“If You’re both sure, I don’t see why not”

Emily and Corvo exchange a few words, before coming to an ultimate decision.

Master Assassin Serana Vhendahex will be working with Abbey for the next coming months.

~

“High Overseer! The spy from the Empress has arrived!” Martin turns, smoothing back his hair.

“About time..” he mutters, barely audible to his accompanying Overseers. The trip down to the courtyard is short, and filled with anticipation. He listens as his brothers chat amongts themselves. However, only one conversation really interests him.

“Apparently the Empress sent a female spy”

“Not a spy brother Rae, an assassin”

“What’s the difference?”

“An assassin is twice as ruthless and double that in cunning, you’d do good to watch your words around her”

“I can’t believe they’d send a female, isn’t that against Abbey policy?”

“The empress’s word is law”

A female assassin? No. It couldn’t be. Martin found himself gripping the hilt of his sword tightly, from anticipation or fear, he did not know. But he dare not let himself hope.

All of that was shattered, when she waltzed in the gates. Clad in her leather armor, sword on her back. Most surprisingly, Serana was not wearing her mask, nor her hood. And that took Martin aback, she is not hiding from him. Or any of the Overseers. She approched him, his hands clenching at his sides.

“High Overseer Martin~” She purred. Lowly, for him alone to hear as she dipped into a slight bow. She’s teasing him, and Martin knows he can do nothing about it. Not right now.

“Master Assassin Vhendahex” He replies, eyeing her up and down. He can play the game, yes, but he knows he won’t win. Not with her.

“A pleasure to have you with us. I look foreward to the coming months”

“Yes-” She states, brushing past him. Purposely rubbing against his arm.

“I’m sure it will be”


	2. (What we cannot have) But somehow acquire

This is all he could ever want, he thinks. All he could ever need.

Martin clutched at her thighs, head bent low into her neck. Serana sighs, hissing softly near the end as he nips at her. She smells heavenly, like lilacs and something else he can’t quite name. Something deep, rich, and metallic. He rubs his nose against her throat, languidly sucking at her flesh. Martin couldn’t see all of them, but he’d littered her with lovebites. The ones he could see spurred him on with pride. Serana’s hands are in his hair. Stroking it, scratching at the base of his neck, giving the occasional tug. Her breasts pressed against his chest. She coaxes him out from her neck with a kiss, her lips pursed as she pulls away.

“Martin~”

“Mmm?” She’s closer now, pressed into him. She’s warm too, oh so warm.

“Wake up”

~

Martin shoots upright. Noone lies beside him, the space cold and empty. Of course it was a dream. He’d had at least three since she arrived. If anything, he thinks, rising from his bed, they’d done nothing but give him pleasure. And sadness, when he awoke. This one, however, had felt different. More real than the rest. He shakes his head, staring long and hard at his reflection.

“Today. I have to tell her today” Martin decides.

'But how?’ The thought rings in his head. She’s different compared to women from Dunwall. From what he’s used to. As such, Martin’s usual tricks fail him, much to his chagrin. How can he get her alone? In a comfortable environment, where he can talk with her. Confess to her. Martin chuckles, the sound itself filled with bitter humor. A priest, confessing. Oh the sweet irony of it. But, he would be able to breath again, knowing she knew his feelings. Even if Serana felt differently. A sharp nock breaks his thoughts.

“High Overseer?”

“Yes?” Martin shouts, stepping into his office. Perhaps he’d spent too long pondering.

“Permission to enter, sir?”

“Granted” The overseer enters his office, hesitating before removing his mask. Martin recognizes him as one of the younger ones, lower in rank.

“Devrim, isn’t it?” he inquires, the younger overseer jumps slightly.

“Yes, sir”

“What is it?” The overseer rubs at his neck, eyes fixed on Martin’s boots.

“There was… An incident this morning, sir. Serkos accidentally injured Ruben while training”

“How bad was it?” Devrim shifts, visibly uncomfortable under his stare.

“Sword wound to the left shoulder blade. Fortunately, Vendahex was able to patch him up immediately with the Abbey’s medical supplies” Martin nods, hiding his surprise behind a netural look. Who knew the master assassin could also play healer.

“Thank you for the report, Devrim. Is their anything else I should know?”

“Ruben is resting in the medical building, last I checked Serkos was with him” Martin nods once more.

“You are dismissed” The overseer bows, exiting the room with haste. Martin stifles a laugh, fishing a cigarette from his pocket. The young ones are always skittish. Given time, they’ll settle into the ranks with ease. He exhales slowly, smoke swirling in the air, glancing around his office. He spies a teacup, sitting forgotten on it’s saucer near the back of the room. Tea, that’s what he could go for right now.

“Might as well…” He utters, passing by the guards outside his door.

~

Serana had been up long before sunrise.

Now, she patrols the rooftops, checking for danger in places other overseers would never look, let alone reach. From her current vantage point, she observes. Nothing moves without her seeing it. Overseers exchanging shifts, training amonst themselves. Birds chirp, aware of her intrusion in what is normally their space alone. Civilians down in the streets below, those just starting their day, and those that have been up for as long as she has. Granted, her day did start with an injured overseer. Her smirk is hidden by her mask, how eventful that had been. She’d not been up for more than an hour when the incident had occurred. Serana had been sitting quietly atop a pile of crates, watching two overseers train, when one slipped and caught the other in the shoulder. There had been some chaos before she managed to seize the wounded overseer, rushing him to the medical building. He’d given her no protest, simply clutched his shoulder with white nuckles. It’d taken her roughly thirty minuets to completely patch the wound, after staunching the blood flow and finding the materials she needed in the many cabinets that lined the walls. She’d left said overseer to rest on one of many cots, freshly bandaged, exhasted from the mixture of adrenaline and painkillers. That had been three hours ago. Down below, a group of children rush through the street, shouting happily amongst themselves. Some adults curse at the them, while some wave politely as they pass. With a sigh, she glances to her left. Oh.

Serana is standing in the exact spot she had three weeks ago, when she’d come across Teague…

She bites her lip, a soft blush on her pale cheeks. A fond memory that is indeed. One she holds close on dark, lonely nights.

“I should talk to him…” She muses, staring out towards the sea. It’d be good to clear things up. To find out if she is just an outlet for his desires, or something more. Ether way, there’s a high chance something will come if it. After a few moments, she begins her descent from the rooftops, swiftly scaling her way down from her perch. Now, she pushes hard off the side of the building, landing soundlessly against the dirt of the courtyard.

“BY THE OUTSIDER!-” an overseer shriekes, weapon raised. Serana simply chuckled, smirk covered by her mask.

“I’d be careful with that if I were you” She waves dismissively at him as she passes by, intent on finding something to eat. And maybe some Serkonan coffee, if they had any left.

Her walk to the breakroom was undisturbed, sans the looks and glares of other overseers as she saunterd by. Some like her, consider her a friend. Others, an aquatince. And to a very small group, a hindrance. She doesn’t much care for most of them. To Serana’s delight, there was indeed coffee. Only, there was a certain high overseer too. Martin hadn’t noticed her yet, sipping casually on what she assumed was tea as he read the paper. He looked tense, shoulders rigid, brows furrowed.

'Whatever could have annoyed him this early? Maybe Devrim’s report’ She pondered, steps light as she grabbed a mug from the shelf, pouring herself a fresh cup of coffee. It smelled divine, and tasted even better. Martin still hadn’t heard her.

'Oblivious aren’t you?’ Stifling a chuckle, Serana leans up against the counter top. Teague Martin is an interesting one, beautifully hadsome too. She finds herself studying his features as he reads, marveling at little details others might not see. Minutes pass, Martin nears the end of his newspaper. She could slip out now, and he’d never know she was there. Or…

“Anything new on the whale factory incident?” Martin visibly jumps, turning sharply to stare at her, eyes wide.

“How long have you-”

“About fifteen minutes” Martin blinks. How didn’t he notice? Calming his racing pulse, he motions to the chair next to him. Serana smirks, setting her mug down.

“I’d love to, but I’m afraid I can’t” She’s beside him now, watching him with those eyes.

“I’m free after five, however” He swallows thickly, rising from his seat. This is his chance.

“Ah. Could I perhaps interest you in joining me for drinks tonight, then? In my office, of course” Serana smiles, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Clever boy.

“You had me at liquor” She’s inches from him.

What is she- oh. OH.

Serana pulls back, eyes bright as she turns away, waving to him as words he can barely hear in his stupor fall from her lips. Martin blinks, hand hovering over his cheek. She… Kissed him? He’s grinning like an idiot now. She kissed him. Serana kissed him. Martin resists the urge to cheer, albeit barely. Tonight will be a good night, he thinks, pulling another cigarette from his pocket.

~

Martin had done his best to make his office look presentable.

It certainly wasn’t perfect in his opinion, but it would have to do. He glances up at the clock. 5:10pm. He’d made good time given the circumstances, even managed to wash up. After all, one must look presentable when courting a lady. Martin rises from his chair, going down his mental checklist one last time. His office had been swept and dusted, balcony doors left open to make the space feel larger. With a few last minute orders, the usual guards at his door had been dissmised for the whole night. He himself had cleaned up, opting to wear his usual white button-down with black slacks, instead of the authoritative red of his High Overseer robes. And, with his remaining time, Martin had selected some finer liquors, from his personal collection. The bottles sit on a silver tray, accompanied by two small glasses. He sighs, running a hand over his face. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. Martin had been around Serana alot when he was a loyalist at the Hound Pits. Had a few drinks with her then too. This, however, is different. There’s no Havelock glaring at the crimson-haired assassin, or Pendleton with his drunken blush asking her stupid questions. Tonight will be just them, with no intrusions. That he’d made sure of. He turns to the clock again, 5:45pm.

“Perhaps I should have given her a time” The suspense is getting to him, not knowing when she will arrive. His mind is churning with hypothetical scenarios of how the night will go, he wills them away with a cigar. Another glance at the clock, 6:30pm.

“She couldn’t have forgotten…” Martin’s hands clench at his sides, willing away his nervousness and unease. He’s standing by the window now, gazing out towards the rooftops. The sun is beginning to set. She wouldn’t stand him up, would she?

He turns when he hears his office door shut with a dull thud.

Serana glances around the room, before settling her gaze on Martin. Wearing casual clothing, she muses. It suits him, however, by the Outsider it suits him.

“Sorry I’m late, I had to check up on Ruben before I came” Martin finds himself speechless, she too had forgone her fancy attire. Instead, she wears a long-sleeved black shirt, with her usual tactical pants. Her hair is down too, waves of red cascading over her shoulders.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in civvies” She smiles, leaning against his desk.

“I don’t think we’ve had the time” Martin returns her smile, tugging at the cuff of his sleeve. She looks gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous.

“I suppose not” he chuckles, motioning to the silver tray on his desk as he approached her.

“Anything in particular you’d like?” Serana’s eyes flick over the lables, but only one catches her attention. Morley rum. She silently wonders how old the bottle must be, turning it over in her hands.

“This one, if that’s alright” Martin peers over her shoulder, eyes widing slightly. He hadn’t expected that. Gently, he takes the bottle from her hands, cracking open the lid. He fills both glasses halfway. There are alot of memories behind this rum, but that had been why he set it out. That, and the fact it’d soon be too strong to drink if he left it tucked away any longer. Martin hands her a glass, raising his own.

“If I may, a toast to you, Serena. For all you’ve helped us with so far, and for what you still may do for us in the next few months” Serana smirks, glass raised.

“Decided to keep me longer after all? You flatter me, Teague” Martin hums, tipping back his glass, the liqour warm on his lips.

“Mmm… Might I add you look lovely tonight?” Cheeky. Serana bites her lip, brushing her hair from her eyes.

“Smooth talker~” He smirks.

“I try” She chuckles, setting her empty glass onto the tray. Silence consumes the room as Martin finishes his drink. He doesn’t miss the way she observes him, eyes flicking to his body every few minutes. Could it really be possible? He sets his glass next to hers. Only one way to find out.

“Serana?” She hums, turning her head to look at him.

“Yes?” He swallows thickly, facing her.

“I have something to tell you, if I may”

“And what would that be?” She tilts her head inquisitively, a small smirk on her lips. Martin feels he could implode, here under her intense blue gaze. So many emotions swirl inside him, when was the last time he’d felt this way about anyone? He can’t remember. Maybe, that’s why he’s so nervous. Now or never.

“I find myself attracted to you, Serana. Undeniably so” He watches her closely, looking for any signs of a negative reaction as he continues with his confession.

“Every since I laid eyes on you, I haven’t been able to get my mind off you. I thought maybe, once we’d all gone our seperate ways, these feelings would disappear. But they haven’t. Nor have they diminished in the slightest. If anything, they seem to have grown stronger” He chuckles. The sound is hollow, and holds no humor.

“So I confess, Serana. You have ensnared me” His office is dead silent, save the sounds of crickets chirping outside the building. He’s holding his breath. Serana stares at him, long and hard. Maybe this had been a mistake. He casts his head down, eyes shut tightly.

He’s about to apologize when she takes his hand.

He gazes up at her, finding the assassin smiling softly, eyes warm. She takes his chin with her thumb, and ever so gently, presses a kiss to his lips. After a moment, she pulls away, pressing an open-mouthed kissed to his throat.

“I know” She whispers against his skin, sliding her hand down his chest. Martin blinks, looking down at her, pressed against him. She’s still holding his left hand, he weaves his fingers with hers. Other hand coming to rest on her hip as he draws her in further.

“You do?” His voice, too, is a whisper.

“I’ve know for a long time, Martin. I’d like you to know I feel the same” His heart is alight in his chest. He feels free, for the first time in months. Years. He claims her mouth, sucking on her bottom lip. Drawing it between his teeth, a soft moan slipping from him as a hand slides under his shirt. Soon, it’s just open-mouthed kisses, tongues in eachothers throats, and hands on clothed bodies. This is carnal pleasure, at it’s finest. He presses one last kiss to the corner of her mouth before he pulls back, staring down at her. Watching him with half-lidded eyes, her lips are already swollen. She’s warm, too.

“Would you like to-”

“Yes. Fuck yes” Martin chuckles. It’s a lustful sound, filled with deeply rooted desire.

“I’d particularly like to take you on my desk, if I may” Serana dips her fingers into his collar, pulling him down to her.

“Teague Martin, you filthy man, I would love that” A wolfish grin spreads across his face, fingers digging into her thighs. His shirt comes off first, followed by hers, and then the rest of her clothing. She looks magnificent, with her red hair falling over creamy shoulders. Her body harbors quite a few scars, most of which appear very old. She has a few tattoos too, including a large, black snake that starts under her right breast, and continues down where it curls around her thigh. It’s wrapped around some kind of red brush flower he hasn’t seen before. He admires it for a moment, trailing his fingers over her skin, before the palm of his hand connects with her ass. Serana groans, tilting her head back.

“Be careful, I might like that” Martin grins, giving her another playful smack.

“Desk, ass up” Serana complies, sinking forward onto the hard wood of Martin’s desk. The sound of cloth rustling filing the night air as Martin frees himself, pushing the fabric down. He’s hard, she can feel it against her inner thigh as he pushes up against her, leaning over her body. A soft moan escaping her lips as he eases a finger into her, hearing Martin groan in appreciation.

“Delicious…” He utters, grasping one of her hands in his. Chest pressed against her back, feeling her writhe from his fingers. He withdraws them slowly, chuckling at her annoyed huff. He’s ready for her, the head flush against her heat.

“Word of advice, Martin-” She breaths from under him, giving the hand she holds a small squeeze.

“Bite me before I climax. Anywhere around my neck will do the trick”

“Understood” He presses a kiss between her shoulderblades.

“Safeword?” Serana taps her nails against the desk.

“Vienna”

“Vienna?”

“One of my middle names”

“Ah. Vienna it is. Ready?” She nods. Martin pushes into her slowly, as slowly as he could manage. Loving the feeling of her arching into him, her small noises of pleasure as he eased all the way in. He stills, listening to her breath, the occasional hitch in it when she moves. He drinks in the sight of her, and then, takes her. Hard and fast. Martin lives for the sounds coming from her, his personal music. His own noises mixing with hers, deep and gutteral. The smell of lust heavy in the cool night air. His own end is approaching quickly, judging from the song the beautiful creature beneath him is singing, Serana’s is too. He waits for the pitch to increase, before biting down hard on her clavicle. She spoke true. Serana clutches his hand as her release hits, Martin’s teeth still deep in her shoulder, eyes shut tightly. She flexes against him, moaning his name. Martin is enamored. It may be one of many names he’s given himself, but it now holds real meaning. Sung to him now by the redheaded enigma pressed against him.

He pulls out as his own release hits him, strings of white painting her back, and his chest. He rests himself on her once he’s finished, doing his best not to crush her. Serana takes his hand, pressing a kiss to his nuckles. Eventually, he picks her up, carrying her to his room. Setting her down on his bed, he goes to fetch a cloth. Serana simply smiles, glowing in the soft lightning. That was certainly worth it. Even if she won’t be able to walk properly for the next few days. Martin returns with a cloth and a cup of water, handing her the cup while he set about cleaning her, then himself, off.

“Good?” He asks, lying down next to her.

“Better than good” Martin smirks, settling himself on his stomach between her legs. Resting his head on her breasts with a contented sigh.

“Martin” He hums, drawing circles on her hip with his thumb.

“Yes, my love?”

“I adore you” They may be words, yes. But those words mean more than most to him. Against her skin, he whispers his own statment of adoration.

Perhaps, this will be eternal.


End file.
